


Maintaining Traditions

by Small_Hobbit



Series: Twelve Days of Christmas plus A Few [7]
Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-23 01:06:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13179102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: There are different opinions regarding the plans for the Christmas gathering.





	Maintaining Traditions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tripleransom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tripleransom/gifts).



“If you think I am trying that, Mr Holmes, then what little wits I thought you had have clearly departed.”

I was returning from assisting at a nasty accident involving a runaway horse and cart, and wearily ascending the stairs to 221B, when I heard Mrs Hudson addressing Holmes.  Hurriedly I ran through the conversation Holmes and I had been having at breakfast when I had been called out.  Nothing came to mind which should have provoked such a reaction.

I was debating rather wearily whether it would be better if I left the house again, and make my way to my club, when Phoebe, our new maid, said, “It’s something about egg nog.”

I breathed a sigh of relief.  If it was only a matter of Holmes attempting to interfere with Mrs Hudson’s culinary preferences I could at least make it safely to my bedroom without having to make any difficult decisions.  On such occasions, if I wished there to be pudding after the main course, I always agreed with Mrs Hudson.

As I entered our rooms I was greeted by “A ridiculous amount of eggs, and how much cream?  I shall be doing a bowl of fruit punch and a jug of mulled wine as usual.  I’m sure that will be acceptable, won’t it, Doctor?”

“Mrs Hudson, that will be more than acceptable, it will be perfect,” I said.  I ignored Holmes’ glare, and resisted the rather childish temptation to stick my tongue out at him.

Somewhat mollified, Mrs Hudson left and I went to have a wash.  Holmes joined me as I was washing.  He gave me a considered look, no doubt deciding whether or not I wished to talk about the aftermath of the accident, and then said, “I merely suggested we try something a little different for our guests.  It will be the last time we host our post-Christmas evening here.”

I smiled at him.  “And perhaps it is good that we keep with our traditions this one last time.  After all, we cannot let the evening go past without you heating the mulled wine with the poker.  Lestrade is determined he will predict the time the first wisps of smoke are detected to within ten minutes.”

“You speak as though I always put the poker down and set fire to something, which as you know is not true.”

“Three times in the last four years gives odds which I would be prepared to bet on.  And it would have been four times if Mycroft hadn’t moved the poker before it caused any damage that one year.”

Holmes acknowledged this with a bark of laughter.  “As ever, Watson, you side with Mrs Hudson in such matters.  But if you truly wish to maintain the traditions one last time, then I will not deny you.”

I smiled at him and took his hands.  “When we are in our cottage I would like to be able to look back with fondness at our Christmas gatherings and this way I shall be able to seal them in my memory.”

He leant over and kissed me.  “Ever the romantic.  But I would not have you any other way.”

 


End file.
